as the cold winds of despair
stir the dying embers of happiness
a tiny spark rises free
from the fire in decay,
a fragile phoenix of hope,
it flies skyward
only to expend
it's fleeting existence
in the act of breaking free
and float back to reality
as blackened ash.
best to piss on the fire
and call in the dogs.
because it's not the persistence of despair
that chills the soul
so much as the death of hope

This message has been edited. Last edited by: zoom,

This is awesome...i can feel the despair there...a lot of pain, very real. Gotta hate that hope snatching away thing...like the rug pulled out from under us. Bleeh. Well i hope things get better for ya. Certainly it isn't hurting your writing.

thanks,hon. i'm still not sure it isn't just a bit of self-indulgent drivel though...

I like the whole idea of the "phoenix". The whole rebirth and death being contained in and of itself works well here. Though, interesting you'd use it, cause the phoenix always rises again. Or maybe that's what you meant, it's a never ending cycle of the birth of hope only to see it die a cold, unkind death.

All in all, good stuff.

zoomie zoom zoom,

Oh wow...that was depressing but really good, I don't think it belongs in the terrible poetry thread at all.

Interesting concept and I could "see" it and follow it all the way through. I've always been fascinated by the phoenix... lol, prolly why I liked it so much in the Harry Potter movie. *cough*



~Gabber

quote:

Originally posted by Sara:
Or maybe that's what you meant, it's a never ending cycle of the birth of hope only to see it die a cold, unkind death.

exactly.

Reading this made me think of those dreams where you begin to fly and then suddenly start dropping, then you wake up trying to catch your fall. I like the imagery.

This is a strong image, and I really appreciate the honest, ordinary language that is used:

best to piss on the fire
and call in the dogs.

These concluding thoughts are deep enough to have made me read them a few times, to fully appreciate:

because it's not the persistence of despair
that chills the soul
so much as the death of hope

The whole image of the fire, sparks and embers works nicely.

i've only recently realized how frequently recurring a theme fire is in my work...

An Aussie singer called Deborah Conway has a song called She Prefers Fire.

The idea of it is that, if she had to choose a disaster to befall her, Deborah would prefer everything in her house to be consumed by flames, so that she could start her life again with absolutely nothing.

Zoom Wrote:

quote:

because it's not the persistence of despair
that chills the soul
so much as the death of hope

Thank you..
You have reminded of something that I often look at the wrong way out of habit. I need to remember this.